


When Reality Falls Short of Expectation, Or: How Not to Tell Your Father About the Existence of Werewolves

by seraphina_snape



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Coming Out, Gen, Misunderstandings, Werewolf Reveal, not like that though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 04:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/895756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraphina_snape/pseuds/seraphina_snape
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles knows Scott is right: he needs to tell his dad about werewolves. But easier said than done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Reality Falls Short of Expectation, Or: How Not to Tell Your Father About the Existence of Werewolves

**Author's Note:**

> This little fic was born out of a conversation I had with [Mizzy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Mizzy/works). All blame/thanks for encouraging me to post it goes to her.
> 
> Judging by the promos for next week, this is definitely NOT how this scene goes on the show. So you could consider this AU. But since the episode hasn't aired yet, nothing is set in stone, right?

Stiles took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He could do this. He could totally do this. 

His feet weren't moving. 

Stiles took another deep breath. He could do this. His dad needed to know. Knowing about the supernatural might get him killed, but not knowing could be just as dangerous. Scott was right, he needed to tell him. At least then he could finally get his dad some wolfsbane bullets. And just because he knew didn't mean he'd get involved, right? 

Stiles snorted. Yeah, right. That was about as likely as preventing his dad from eating any junk food at all. In fact, Stiles would be very surprised if his dad didn't take the chance to start eating junk food again with the excuse that he might get killed by an omega or another supernatural creature, so why did it matter? 

_Oh my god, no. Nope. So very much no._ Stiles couldn't do this. His dad definitely did _not_ need to know about anything. His dad needed to eat his salad and investigate normal crimes and _be safe_. 

Stiles could just do some more research on druid and tell Scott his dad hadn't been home. Late shift. It happened. 

"Are you done any time soon or should I just come back later?" 

Stiles yelled (in surprise, in a manly fashion, okay? And he would deny anything else with his dying breath) and turned around. "Oh my god, do you take creepiness lessons from Derek?"

Cora, perched on his window sill, raised her eyebrows. The resemblance to Derek was uncanny. "What are you doing here?" 

Cora shrugged. "Scott said you were telling your dad. I figured you might need some evidence." 

"So you brought your Who's Who of Werewolves?" 

"No, dumbass." Cora flashed her fangs at him. "I brought my werewolf self." 

Oh. 

Stiles had a brief moment of panic where he realized that he would definitely have to go through with it now. 

"What?" 

"What what?" 

Cora tilted her head and Stiles recognized it as the universal creepy werewolf pose of listening to something they probably shouldn't. Like his wildly beating heart. 

"You're freaking out." 

Stiles gave Cora an unimpressed look. "I am _not_ freaking out. And I'll thank you for keeping your enhanced senses off my body in the future." 

Cora waited until he looked at her before she let her eyes travel up his body in an exaggerated way. She gracefully - seriously, it wasn't _fair_ , stupid werewolves and their stupid supernatural muscle control - jumped into the room and stepped close to him, pressing her nose to his neck. 

"Gah!" Stiles scrambled backwards. This was almost worse than Derek's patented 'scowl and throw Stiles against the nearest hard surface' method of interaction. "Don't do that again." 

Cora smiled, although it looked more like she was baring her teeth at him.

Before he could lose his nerve, Stiles opened his door and jogged down the stairs. His dad was in the kitchen, rummaging through the cupboard where Stiles had found a package of cookies earlier. He had of course confiscated and immediately destroyed them. 

"Looking for something?" Stiles asked innocently.

His dad shot him a dirty look and closed the cupboard. "No." 

" All that processed sugar isn't good for you. You won't find them," Stiles said. "We're having vegetable stir fry for dinner."

His dad rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll do some paperwork while--" 

"Actually," Stiles interrupted before his courage deserted him, "I think we need to talk." 

His dad raised his eyebrows. "Okay." 

Stiles pointed at the chairs. "And you might want to sit down for this." 

"Okay." 

Stiles waited until his dad had settled into his listening pose. "Dad, you know I haven't been entirely honest with you for... a while." 

"Two years," his dad muttered. He put on an innocent expression when Stiles glared at him. 

"Well, I thought it was time to finally tell you what's going on." 

"That's...good to hear, son." 

"Right." Stiles took deep, cleansing breath. He could totally do this. He could. 

Stiles started his story.

***

John listened carefully as Stiles started talking about noticing strange things when he was sixteen. 

Ever since that night at the gay club, John had been preparing for this. After his initial response - the literature agreed that it was a bad reaction, but that it was understandable to be shocked, surprised and unsure at first - Stiles hadn't brought it up again. But looked like he was finally tired of hiding and lying. John would make sure that his response was more appropriate. He was going to be supportive and non-judgmental and wear a PFLAG button to work. He could do this. 

"...so I did some research and I told Scott what was up. He didn't believe me at first, but I convinced him that..." 

So Scott's first reaction hadn't been positive either? Jeez. No wonder Stiles hadn't brought it up again after he'd scoffed at the mere idea of Stiles being gay. 

"...talked to Derek and found out that his uncle..." 

Derek? Derek _Hale_? John swallowed. The books said to be supportive, but John honestly wasn't sure he could be if his son was involved with Derek Hale of all people.

"Derek? Derek Hale?" John interrupted. 

Stiles frowned. "Well, yeah. Haven't you been listening?" 

The books said to be attentive and listen even if he knew what his kid was trying to tell him. John might have skipped that part and tuned Stiles out. A little. But he wasn't sure what Scott's animal bite - which neither boy had reported despite the mountain lion alert at the time, and they were both going to hear about that once he was sure Stiles knew he wasn't going to be punished for being gay - had to do with anything. 

"Stiles, what do random animal bites and Derek Hale have to do with you coming out to me?" 

Stiles gaped at him. 

John felt the first hint of unease. What if this wasn't Stiles' coming out speech? What if he wasn't ready to come out? The books all said that he should let his kid come out at his own pace, that rushing the issue wasn't going to help in the long run.

"You think I'm--" Stiles flailed in his chair. "Oh my god, _Dad_. That's so not what this is about. Why am I even talking if you're not listening?" 

"Maybe I misunderstood a few things," John said. "But you kept talking about noticing things and then there was that night at _Jungle_ and you kept a naked Jackson chained to a stolen vehicle! If this isn't your own Brokeback Mountain story, then what is going on?"

"Oh my god. I'm trying to tell you, but you're the one who's not listening!" Stiles yelled. "And the Jackson thing, that wasn't even-- the nakedness was a coincidence, okay?!"

"Coincidentally naked," John said, sniffing skeptically. "That happen a lot to you?" 

"All the goddamn time," Stiles bit out. 

John raised an eyebrow. 

Stiles made a frustrated noise. "Sorry. Can I go on now. Okay. Since you don't want to listen to the entire story, how about I show you instead. Cora here--" Stiles looked around. "Cora?" 

John was man enough to admit that he might have made a small noise of surprise when a brown-haired girl stuck her head into the kitchen. He hadn't even heard the doorbell earlier. 

"Okay, Dad. What I have to tell you--well. Technically, what Cora - this is Cora, by the way. Cora Hale? She's Derek's sister." 

Cora gave him a little wave. 

"Weren't you dead?" John winced internally. So much for his preparation. This wasn't at all going where he thought it was. How did this girl even fit into anything? And how was she alive? The report listed all except Derek, Laura and Peter Hale as deceased. "I mean, I thought you died. In the fire." 

"I got out," Cora said. She took a few steps forward and Stiles kicked out the chair between them. Cora shot him a smile and sat down. "I didn't know anyone else had survived. I was confused and grieving. I just walked around until someone found me. Only, I'd walked into the next county. And I kind of didn't speak for a long while." Cora shrugged. "I grew up in a group home. And then I saw an article about Laura's death and came back looking for other survivors. Derek is trying to get custody until I turn eighteen." 

John nodded. His cop instincts were telling him the story was too rehearsed, but kids in the system had to deal with a lot. After you've had to tell your story a few hundred times, it eventually does sound like you learned it by heart. He could give her the benefit of the doubt for now. 

Cora seemed like a nice young girl, even though her relation to Derek Hale made him frown. First Isaac, and now Cora? For someone who kept himself so far removed from society, Derek Hale sure had a lot of contact with the teenagers of this community. 

Caught up in his thoughts, John missed the beginning of Stiles' speech. What he did hear, however, sent the warning bells ringing in his head.

"--what Cora - no, what Cora and I have to tell you--"

"Oh my god, Stiles, please tell me she's not pregnant!" 

Stiles' eyes widened and his mouth opened in horror. Either he had it wrong - _again_ \- or he'd hit the nail on the head and the girl was pregnant. 

Pregnant. Holy shit. He was going to be a grandfather. He was too young to be a grandfather. Stiles was too young to be a father! 

"Stiles--"

"What is wrong with you?" Stiles blurted. "I can't believe you--no one is _pregnant_ , oh my god, Dad! Why did I even bother to be nice about this? You know what? I'm done." Stiles made a corresponding gesture and John felt his heart clench. Stiles' mom had made that same gesture when they were arguing and she thought she was right. 

"You want to know the truth? I can tell you the truth, Dad. No problem." Stiles gestured to Cora. "This is Cora Hale. She's a normal seventeen-year-old girl. Except once a month--oh my god, stop making that face!" 

Cora rolled her eyes and slapped Stiles over the back of his head. He ducked his head like it hurt a lot more than it could have done. "Really, Stiles? Do you want to make him think about menstruation next? Do you want to go through every embarrassing topic you can possibly think of before you get to the point? How can you talk for ever and still not say anything important? Get to the point, Stiles, or I'll rip your arms off and beat you into the ground." 

John had the fleeting thought that maybe they should have another 'Video Games and Violence' seminar at the high school if this was how teenagers talked to each other these days. But Stiles didn't seem to mind too much. Sure, his face contorted into a grimace and he let out a wordless yell of frustration, but he didn't seem to be truly offended. 

"WEREWOLVES, okay?!" Stiles exploded. "The secret is werewolves. Werewolves, werewolves, werewolves." 

John raised an eyebrow. "Were--"

Stiles raised his hands and clawed at the air, teeth bared and snarling. "Werewolves, yes, that's right. I was going to be gentle and lead you to it gradually, but you had to come up with all these ridiculous theories. Where did you even get this stuff? Pregnant! Ha! I dream about getting someone pre--" Stiles broke off and flushed. "Noooo, I don't dream about that. Oh my god, this is all so wrong. I can't even--Cora, show him."

With that, Stiles tugged the hood of his sweatshirt over his hair, folded his arms on the table and put his head down on them. 

John turned his gaze to Cora, who was watching Stiles with an expression that seemed to hover somewhere in between exasperated and homicidal. Cora glanced at him and her entire demeanor shifted from slightly superior and annoyed to nervous and faced with authority. John didn't preen. It's wasn't exactly an achievement to make teenage girls nervous even if it was nice to know he could still intimidate today's youth through his sheer presence. That was bound to come in handy when lacrosse season started back up and he'd be breaking up parties all over town.

"Stiles, are you sure that--"

"Yes," came Stiles' muffled voice from inside his makeshift cocoon. "If he has a heart attack, he only has himself to blame." 

"You don't mean that," Cora snapped. 

"No, I don't," Stiles easily agreed without raising his head. "At least the part about the heart attack. But hey, why don't you show my dad why you're practically a walking, talking lie detector?"

There was a dull thud and Stiles' head shot up with a yell. He glared at Cora and then reached down to rub his leg. 

John was quite used to Stiles' deflection methods. Even something as ridiculous as werewolves - when he was five, Stiles very convincingly told his mother that he couldn't go to just yet because the tiny invisible people that lived under his bed didn't like the dark. Stiles was old enough to know better though. When it looked like Stiles was going to start squabbling with Cora again instead of actually coming clean about the big secret he had, John cleared his throat. Enough was enough. 

"How about you tell me what's _really_ going on?" 

***

Stiles concentrated on breathing through his nose. Both in order to not hyperventilate and to keep in the hysterical laughter that had threatened to escape him since he realized he and his dad were apparently having two very different conversations. 

The only way to convince his dad that werewolves were an actual thing that he now had to live with would be for Cora to go all 'grr argh' in front of his very eyes. 

"Stiles." 

Stiles flinched at the combination of disappointment, anger and worry that laced his dad's voice. Ever since this whole werewolf business had started, that voice had become a much more regular part of his life. Stiles hated it. 

"I swear to you, Dad. I'm not lying, I'm not making things up, I'm not nuts. Werewolves are real. They exist and Cora is one of them." 

When his dad's eyes snapped to Cora, she nodded. "I'm a werewolf. So is Derek. And Scott. And a few other people." 

His dad seemed to be wavering between pissed off and disbelieving. 

"Cora?" Stiles looked at her.

"Right." Cora turned to his dad. "I'm going to proof to you that I'm a werewolf. I'd appreciate it if you didn't, you know, shoot me or anything." 

His dad gave Cora his best 'oh, really?' look. "I think I'll be able to control myself," he said drily. 

Stiles wanted to roll his eyes, but between his dad - who had power to ground him until the end of time - and Cora - whose threats and body checks nearly rivaled Derek's - he figured it would be wiser to hold back for now. 

Instead of watching Cora's transformation, Stiles watched his dad's face. He saw the fleeting moment of 'oh shit, I must be insane' before his dad's face settled on a mixture of fear and wonder and anger. Then his dad's gaze shifted from Cora to him and Stiles gulped. He might not even have to worry about the alpha pack anymore. If his dad didn't kill him for leaving him in the dark for so long, he would undoubtedly ground him until _after_ college. _'I'm sorry, but Stiles can't come out to play defenseless human in your power play slash pissing contest because he is grounded until for-fucking-ever.'_

But instead of yelling at him, his dad smiled mildly. "Why don't you start at the beginning? Tell me _everything_ , Stiles." 

Stiles wasn't fooled. This was the quiet before the storm. This was his dad, getting all the facts before doling out the 'appropriate' punishment. This was just a delay of the inevitable. But he'd take what he could get. 

Stiles started talking.


End file.
